Master and Hound
by Mengde
Summary: Reno is taught a lesson about who is in charge.


So, recently my lovely beta Pen Against Sword issued me a challenge, as follows:

**Summary: **I want a Reno/Rufus that has a definite power struggle between the two. Maybe lots of Reno coming to terms with the idea that Rufus is the dominant partner in their relationship and in their employee-employer relationship. Maybe realizing he likes being a sub.

**Terms that must be met:** I want something sexual involving a desk. I want this to be hot. Not too explicit, but definitely verging on it.

So I took that and wrote this, and both she and my other lovely beta VulcanElf think I may have weaseled out of the challenge when I was really trying to creatively interpret it and make it plausible. OR WAS I? I leave it up to you to decide whether I fulfilled the challenge or not, and whether the piece itself is good. Without further ado...

* * *

**Master and Hound**

"You wanted to see me?"

From where he sat at his desk, Rufus looked up at the entrance to his office. The door was ajar, and standing in its frame was a problem. This particular problem had flame-red hair pulled back in a ponytail, turquoise eyes, and a pair of curving tattoos on his cheekbones; he also looked perpetually unkempt.

Rufus narrowed his eyes at Reno, who seemed to miss the import of the expression entirely. "You wanted to see me…"

For a moment Reno stared at him, uncomprehending. Then he caught on and drawled, "You wanted to see me, _sir?_"

"I did," Rufus replied, all business. "Sit."

The Turk swaggered across the room before practically falling into the chair Rufus had set out for visitors. He draped an arm over the chair's back and put his feet up on the expensive wooden desk, an article of furniture Rufus had always hated. It was too big, too expensive, too vulgar, too representative of everything his father had been.

Now that he was in charge, however, he had no time to remove it. He had to be in Junon for the parade in two days, AVALANCHE had escaped after rescuing the Cetra girl, and Sephiroth was apparently alive and well. There were too many problems to be dealt with for Rufus to concern himself with finding a new desk, so he had let it stay in his office for the time being.

The problem he was going to deal with now somehow slouched even further down in his seat. "So what's up?"

Rufus looked at Reno, letting a sneer tug at the corner of his mouth. "I've been reviewing your file," he said.

"And?"

"I see you're the one my father entrusted with dropping the Sector Seven plate. How did you feel about that?"

Reno shrugged. "Guy's gotta do what he's gotta do. Your dad wrote my checks, so I did what he told me. That's the way things are. Good enough answer for ya?"

"Very enlightening," Rufus replied, eyes still on the papers in front of him. "I've noted something, here – in the 'personal notes' section. Your former superior in the Turks, Veldt, wrote that you are insouciant, undisciplined, and disrespectful. You are also one of the best operatives Shin-Ra can field, so he was willing to overlook these failings and partnered you with Rude to compensate for them."

"Sounds like something Veldt would say," Reno said, his voice flat. He began inspecting his fingernails, evidently convinced his tone was not expressive enough to convey just how bored he was. "Is there a point to this?"

"You will look at me when I'm speaking to you."

That got his attention. Reno snapped his gaze up to Rufus's face, looking almost incredulous. "'Scuse me?"

Rufus sat back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "Here is the point, Mister Reno. I have been the head of this company for less than forty-eight hours. In this small amount of time, you have failed to show me any of the respect due to your superior – to the man who writes your checks, as you so colorfully put it. I'm afraid this will not stand."

For a moment Reno continued to stare, openmouthed. "You want me to show you _due respect?_" he asked. "What the hell is this shit? Why do you care? As long as I do my job and take your orders, you oughta be happy."

Rufus reached across the desk to press the button on his intercom. "Bring it in."

Bemusement colored Reno's expression for a moment before the door to Rufus's office opened again. A pair of Shin-Ra grunts dragged in the mangled corpse of what had once been a Guard Hound. They dropped it in front of the desk, saluted, and did an about-face before exiting, closing the door behind them.

"This," Rufus said, "is all that's left of my Guard Hound, Dark Nation. Do you want to know how he died, Reno?"

The Turk eyed the animal, saying nothing, so Rufus took that as an invitation to go on. "He got in the way of Cloud Strife. He took a sword strike that was meant for me, undoubtedly saving my life in the process. I did not tell him to; he leaped in front of the strike without any prompting or hesitation. Tell me why he did this, Reno."

"Because you got him trained real well," Reno drawled. "Because he didn't know anything else."

"No," Rufus replied. "He did this because he knew his place, Reno. He knew he was the hound and I was his master. The hound cannot survive without the master; it's better for the hound to die. This is the order of things, Reno, and disrespecting me is the same as disrespecting that order." He leaned back in his chair again. "Do you understand?"

"Oh, I understand, all right," Reno said. "But there's something I think _you _don't understand."

"Really? Enlighten me."

"You don't understand _me. _I don't give a shit about the 'order of things' or crap like that. You can talk about 'knowing my place' until the Planet freezes over and it won't make a lick of difference to me. I'll still just think of you as the guy who writes my checks, and I'll still just take your orders and get 'em done. If I take a bullet for you, it'll be because it's my job, not because it's the 'order of things.'" Reno swung his feet off Rufus's desk and leaned forward, a grin on his face. "And speaking of, I want a raise. Your old man wasn't paying me to protect him from crazies like Sephiroth; you are."

Rufus sighed. "Well, when you put it that way, I suppose there's nothing left to do except cave in like my father did." He withdrew his checkbook from his coat pocket, ripped out a check, and scrawled a rather large sum on it. "You're too valuable to lose, so I'll just have to put up with your disrespect." With a flourish, Rufus signed the check and held it out so Reno would have to lean across the desk to grab it.

"You don't sound convinced," Reno said, still grinning, as he reached for the check. His fingers closed around it, tugged; his grin wavered when Rufus didn't let go of the slip of paper.

"You're right," Rufus replied. "I'm not." He reached out with his free hand, grabbed hold of Reno's head, and slammed the man face-first into his desk, hard.

Reno made an angry spluttering noise, his nose beginning to bleed, but Rufus wasn't done. He let go of the check, grabbing Reno's collar with his now-free hand and pulling the stunned Turk all the way onto his desk. The redhead looked like he might be thinking of retaliating, so Rufus bashed Reno's head into his desk a second time for good measure. Blood spattered the paperwork scattered over the desk's surface, and Reno slumped down on the hard wood, dazed.

"Now that I have your attention," Rufus said, "let's go over what you did wrong." He leaped up onto the desk himself, got a foot on either side of the Turk, and knelt down so he was straddling Reno, who was still face-down, twitching. "First, you made the mistake of thinking you could _negotiate_. Hounds don't negotiate, Reno; they beg. You can tame a dog with food, and you can tame a man with money, but you never give the dog termsfor his food, just as you never give the man terms for his money. I am not paying you; I am giving you your allowance of money as I would give a dog his allowance of food. I will increase that allowance when I see fit, or when you beg eloquently enough."

"Fuck you," Reno muttered, trying to get up. Rufus saw the flash of the man's electro-mag rod as the Turk twitched his arm, sending the weapon shooting from its spring-loaded sheath into his hand. He jammed his knee into the small of Reno's back, grabbed the rod with both hands, and wrenched it out of the man's grip.

"Second, you just tried to bite me," Rufus said. "I'm disappointed in you, Reno. A good hound knows not to bare his teeth at his master, even in jest." He viciously struck Reno across the back of his head with the rod before tossing it away. "Now I'm going to make sure the lesson sinks in."

Reno was down but definitely not out. He sluggishly tried to move beneath Rufus's weight, but the new President was having none of that. In one smooth motion, he unbuckled his belt, pulling it free of his waist. Then he wrapped it around Reno's neck, looped it back through the buckle so he had plenty of slack, and yanked, hard. That elicited a strangled, gagging noise from Reno.

"Who am I?" Rufus snarled. Reno tried to talk around the belt pressing against his throat but only managed a low groan, which made Rufus yank on the slack again. "The answer," he said, "is your master. Say it."

"_Fuck you,_" Reno said again.

Rufus grabbed Reno's hair, yanked the man's head back sharply so the belt was not pressing quite as hard against his neck. "Tell me what I want to hear or you'll be insulting me through a crushed larynx," he hissed in Reno's ear.

Reno said nothing, so Rufus yanked on the belt again, even harder than before. "_Say it._"

"You're…" Reno tried to suck in a breath, choked on it. Rufus eased up on the pressure from the belt. "You're the boss."

Rufus thought on this. "Not quite what I wanted," he mused, "but if I broke you completely, you certainly wouldn't be such an effective operative any more. I'll let you get away with just that for now."

He let go of Reno's hair; the Turk wasn't expecting it and his forehead banged against the desk again before he could catch himself. His face was covered in blood, which he wiped at with his sleeve. "You wanna get your damn belt off my neck?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

Rufus let a second pass for effect. "I like it where it is," he said, giving it a tug. "But I could be persuaded to remove it."

Reno muttered something under his breath. "You want me to say I'm your pretty little bitch now? Is that what you're into?"

That earned him a sharp yank, which made him wince. "I don't deal in humiliation and abuse, Reno," Rufus said. "I deal in power. You want me to remove the belt? Give me your solemn word that you will be a good hound and serve me faithfully."

"Yeah, sure."

"Reno," Rufus warned him.

The Turk blew out a long breath. "I'll be a good hound and serve you faithfully. Can you take this damn belt off now?"

"You'd better be serious about this. Never make a promise you don't intend to keep. You have to be honest with your master."

"I _am _serious," Reno said. "Now take this fucking belt off me!"

Rufus sighed and removed the belt from around Reno's neck. "I suppose that attitude of yours will never change. Still, it's part of what makes you so effective, so I won't discourage it. Just remember to always show me proper respect."

"And something about the order of things, I got it," Reno said. "You wanna get off of me now?"

The new President stayed exactly where he was.

"Would you get off of me now, Boss?" Reno asked.

"Gladly," Rufus replied, getting back to his feet and hopping down off the desk. "I would have you say please, but I doubt I'll ever get you that broken."

Reno rolled off the desk, collapsing into the chair opposite Rufus's. He wiped the rest of the undried blood from his face, grimacing. "You enjoyed that, didn't you?"

Rufus, who had somehow avoided getting a single speck of blood on his white coat, smirked as he sat down. "Reno, you should know that I never mix business with pleasure." He picked up the check, still sticky with Reno's blood, and slid it across the desk to him. "Here. I won't write a check I don't intend to give out."

Obviously having learned his lesson, Reno reached for the check carefully. "My new allowance, eh?"

"Indeed. So, do you like being my hound?"

Eyeing the figure on the check, Reno replied, "I could get used to it."

"And that, Reno, is the difference between you and me. That is why I am the master and you the hound." Rufus cleared the bloody papers off the desk and produced a comb with which he began to straighten his mussed hair.

"What, a check?"

"Not the check, but everything it implies. I may have taken my belt off your throat, but I never really removed it. All I have to do is give it a yank and you will tell me anything to get me to ease up." Rufus grinned at him, a self-assured expression full of venom. "Isn't that right?"

Reno looked as though he was about to argue the point, but then he slipped the check into a pocket and said, "Yes, Boss."

"Good. That will be all, Mister Reno." Rufus watched the man walk out of his office, moved to put on his belt and realized there was a large droplet of blood slowly tracing its way down the leather. He waited until Reno closed the door behind him before removing the blood with one swift lick. The iron taste was strong on his tongue, and he relaxed into his seat and smiled.

He had been hoping Reno would give him more trouble than that, but as he'd said, he never mixed business with pleasure. The man was his now. There would be time later.

For the moment, Rufus eyed the cracks in the finish of the desk and the blood spattered on its formerly pristine surface. He leaned forward, pressed the button on his intercom.

"Send in some people to remove this desk," he said. "Its time is up."


End file.
